There is an explanation everywhere
I went to walk the dogs in City Park this morning but not, of course, at first having a conversation about the front porch rotting off and why it needs to be replaced with something very expensive and why wood was a poor choice and why the person who built it used the wrong nails and on and on and on. And I get nasty now in my responses – really? the person who built it was a nail freak, a nail psycho, who ordered nails from all over because he was psychotic about nails, now you’re telling me that nail nut used the wrong nails – oh god, give me strength is all I could think.
And so I walked – for sanity more than anything else.
Tatjana returned last night and so she took Tin to school and I began my routine of work without the impending obligation of having to take care of a 3 year old willful child all by myself. It did indeed feel better.
The torah reading on the Huffington Post says that Moses was given commandments by God to work your fields for six years and then rest on the seventh year. Perhaps, this the seventh year since I began plowing these fields, is my rest period and it has been forced upon me by an eye for an eye god who demands that I follow his commandments. Just suppose that were true. And now head uncovered, here I am yielding to the demands, because actually what choice do I have?
I keep waiting for the Universe or what have you to answer my questions – do I keep this house? I want to live in a house with benign neglect like everyone else I see in New Orleans and my neighbor said, “Well, you could start right now.” But would it be benign? I don’t think so given all the horrors that people tell me await this house – it will fall down, it will be destroyed, a plague will visit your family – IF YOU DON’T SPEND COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF MONEY to fix it right now.
Is this my seventh year and is it my year of rest? If so, then Shabbat Shalom.